Saturday, 25 January 2025

Mimesis BY FADY JOUDAH


My daughter

                        wouldn’t hurt a spider

That had nested

Between her bicycle handles

For two weeks

She waited

Until it left of its own accord


If you tear down the web I said

It will simply know

This isn’t a place to call home

And you’d get to go biking


She said that’s how others

Become refugees isn’t it?

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Fame by Emily Dickinson

Fame is a bee. It has a song— It has a sting— Ah, too, it has a wing.